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Monday, February 18, 2008

Taste memory

My grandmother Haydée was a great cook, and her specialty were cakes and cookies. She would spend the whole afternoon preparing some sweet delicacies while the five vultures (me, my two brothers and two cousins) were flying around. There was no way we could touch anything before it was all ready, because she liked to count how many of each of her treats she had prepared; then she would spend the next few days retelling "I made 142 pancakes" or "I baked 189 doughnuts" (yes, the numbers are right!). Those pancakes or doughnuts, however, would rarely make it through their second day of 'life'.

We had a few favourites, things that we would always ask her to cook. The first place, without a doubt, would go to the 'American doughnuts', which were just fantastic. Then, in no particular order, we would find her pancakes (I hold the family's record with 18 in one night), empanadas filled with sweet potato jam (my record, 11), and some dry anise-flavoured cookies which we called "eights" because they vaguely resembled that number. These last ones would last forever once we put them in a jar.

Watching her bake was very interesting. I remember she would make a mountain of flour and baking powder, and then drop the eggs, melted butter, etc in the centre. She would cook on top of her marbled counter top and would not use any recipes or measures; everything was 'by eye'. We loved to help her, but our chances of getting there were limited.

The doughnuts were just fantastic, as I said, and something I never thought I would enjoy again once she grew old and became unable to cook like that anymore. Until I came to Canada...

I was alone, a couple of weeks after having arrived in Toronto, living in a Motel 6 in Mississauga. There was a Tim Hortons / Wendy's right next door, so I would go there almost every day for either breakfast or late night snack (my room had a kitchen, so there was no need of having lunch or dinner out). One day, I ordered a 'double double' with a couple of old fashioned plain donuts. To my extreme surprise, I realized that they tasted the same than those my grandmother used to make! I couldn't believe my... taste buds. I thought I was fooling myself.

Then my brother Guillermo came and certified that I was right. And a couple years later, mi mother and mi brothers Martín and Paco agreed as well. I wasn't going crazy.

Pancakes and empanadas are not a problem, Gaby takes care of those. I will never get to taste those anise-flavoured 'ochos' again, but I surely remember those days at my grandmother's every time I go to Tim's and buy some old-fashioned plain donuts. A little piece of my childhood made it to here.